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If he had a book full of things he didn't understand about Jude, it would likely rival War and Peace for volume. Actually, he did have a book, and it was called his diary; though it was not strictly devoted to Jude, he'd learned while thumbing through an old one just the other night that there was a lot about Jude in it. Nice things, funny things, things that he'd wanted to remember and had known he wouldn't, so he'd written them down. For as many items that he'd faithfully logged, there were at least half as many scribbles in the margins, things like, What did he mean by that? and Jude makes no sense. It had embarrassed him, a little, to see it all laid out before him so obviously when he hadn't realized a single bit of it.

He'd liked Jude for a long time. A lot longer than he wanted to give himself credit for, or blame, as the case might have been. But, just because he'd cared about him for a long time didn't mean he was any closer to understanding him.

For instance, he had no idea how they'd gone from a conversation about their fight to Barren Pines. It made him a little anxious, a lot unhappy; he didn't have many good memories from Barren Pines. Even the good ones he had were tainted, whether by his own brief existence as a youma or by death, his own or someone else's. He didn't want to talk about Barren Pines, hadn't talked to anyone about it.

But for how bad it had been, at least he'd known what was going on, sort of. At the end. At least he'd had time to gain his bearings before he was thrust into action. Jude had died so much sooner than he had, and had been barely revived before he was shoved to the front lines, told to take his place and perform his duty. As hard as it was for Grayson, he imagined Jude must be angry, confused. Feeling left behind?

Grayson would have felt left behind.

So he leaned forward as well, placing his cocoa between his feet. He propped his elbows up on his knees, let his arms cross in front of him, stared at his hands. Barren Pines.

Because it was Jude, probably only because it was Jude, he'd talk about it.

"What do you want to know?"

Grayson let his gaze lose focus, watched his fingers blur as he took himself back to Barren Pines. It wasn't that long ago, really, but it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime he would rather put behind him, a lifetime he was better off forgetting. And yet, he couldn't forget completely. He couldn't forget everyone he'd met at Barren Pines, the relationships he'd formed, the ones he'd tried to form. Alease, his best friend. Benny, his...

Benny.

He brought a hand to his lips, tracing the tips of his fingers against the lower one. He couldn't forget, not about Benny.

He dropped his hand again, sighing. "I don't know everything. I don't even really know most things."

So, he'd start from the beginning. Or, the beginning of what he thought Jude needed to know. "People were dying. We thought it was of bacterial meningitis, but, well, we were supposed to. Somewhere along the way, you died -- I'm sorry, I don't remember exactly when."

It shamed him, and it was obvious in his voice. "I didn't remember you, so... I was sad." But he wasn't sad enough, he knew. "But I thought you just.."

He shook his head a little, moved on. "I didn't realize anything was going on until I was taken. I was asleep in my room, I guess, and when I woke up, I was shackled to someone. Benny? I don't know if you knew Benny." His heart squeezed. "Benny and I were in a room, and we thought it was terrorists."

Turning his shoulders in a little, he closed his eyes. "This part's not too important, I suppose. I told you I shot myself. Well, the options were kill everyone else -- I'm not even sure who was there -- or die. So, Benny and I decided to shoot ourselves."

He could remember the terror, the despair, the sudden, beautiful calm. Right before. He would never be able to tell Benny thank you for giving him that calm.

"I don't know how long I was dead, either. When I came to again, I thought I was a zombie." He opened his eyes again, glanced over, and there was contempt on his face for himself. "Youma, I realize. I was a youma. But I didn't have any memories, didn't know, didn't realize it, so I didn't put two and two together."

A jogger went by, and Gray watched her for a moment. Then, he continued, sounding weary. "Everyone was a youma, almost. I didn't even realize there were other human survivors until I saw Virgo. I bit her," and he sounded ashamed again, something close to heartbroken. "I tried to eat her."

And it still haunted him sometimes when he looked at her. "I blacked out. Someone stopped me, and I'm grateful for that. Then, Sue found me, and Remi? I don't know if you know him either. Sue found us, gave me my henshin pen, and it came back to me. Somewhat. A little at a time, but it was more a feeling, you know? And then we went to the gym, and they went to get you, and we took down the barrier."

It wasn't as detailed as it could have been. He was sure he left things out. But he lapsed into a silence, just focusing on his own breathing. He'd thought he didn't have the energy to be that sad again, but it turned out he did.

God, Barren Pines.

Grayson didn't feel like he'd done much good at all. He didn't feel like there was anything Jude should be appreciating, since he hadn't been able to give any answers or explanations. He'd only been able to tell his part in it, admit that he'd been so content to just trail along and never question that he'd been led to his own death. He'd been there longer than Jude, but hadn't made a difference. Hadn't even tried to make a difference until the end, and even then, he still hadn't known what to do.

Between the two of them, Grayson thought it was obvious who was more to blame. Jude had died first, sure, but he couldn't be blamed for that. Grayson had lived longer, had done less.

Maybe he hadn't thought about Barren Pines because he hadn't wanted to hate himself for it.

"I'm sorry I don't know more."

A pause. His voice sounded tight.

"I'm sorry I didn't do more. I didn't even... try."

Now it sounded strained.

Great.

The speech Jude had given him was a long time coming. Grayson could have used it at the beginning of everything, back when he'd been brand new as a senshi, even if he couldn't clearly recall those days. He was the type of person to take things upon himself, even things that weren't rightfully his fault, and shoulder the blame so that someone did. He felt guilty beyond what was reasonable, and somehow he'd convinced himself that it was not only all right, but that it was what he should do. That it was his responsibility, somehow, to be the one who felt bad, the one who scorned himself for never meeting up to his own far-reaching expectations. He was so hard on himself so that he could be lenient on others, forgive their weaknesses, compensate for them.

It would have been flawless if he'd actually been able to grow, able to change, to be the stronger man that he needed to be. To be strong enough to stand up under the impossible burden he tried to heap on his own shoulders. But he wasn't. He tried to take on too much too fast, and it made his knees weak. It made him stumble, made him fall.

No one had ever been able to help him up from that. No one had ever extended a hand, real or metaphorical, except for Jude. No one had ever known they needed to, had ever been let past his defenses long enough to discover that underneath the calm and the quiet there was a terrible guilt, an aching inadequacy.

Except for Jude, who was trying to do it again. In his own way.

Grayson looked at the palm of his hand, remembered when Jude had split it open, locked his own there tight, mixed their blood. At the time, it had meant something to him. Now, it meant more.

He didn't know if he was brave enough to take the step that he needed to, to be able to sit back and say, I'm not as strong as I want to be. This isn't all my fault. Somehow, admitting that weakness... he felt like it would destroy him.

It surely would, if there was no one to gather up the pieces and put them back together. No one to press their hand to his, remind him of who he was.

Jude had reminded him of who he was. He was Grayson Graves, and he was Sailor Leo. Grayson wasn't as brave as he wanted to be; Leo wasn't as capable, as strong. Jude reminded him of who he was by reminding him that he was to blame but not as much as he'd been blaming himself, because he wasn't important enough, strong enough, vital enough to carry that kind of responsibility.

It was balm and poison, relief and agony. A truly double-edged sword.

"I think..." His voice trailed off, uncertain. He clasped his hands in front of him, tucked the fingertips against his palms to try to warm them. "I understand what you're saying, Jude."

He glanced over, tired eyes in a tired face. "I believe you. I know being angry with myself is... arrogant, is stupid, is justified and then it's not."

Sighing, he shook his head. "I know thinking about the past and wishing I could change something, even a little something, is useless. But I still want to."

His voice had quieted, trailed to something barely above a murmur. "Thank you, by the way. For this."

This?

All of it, he meant.

Grayson coughed at the smoke, and just like that, the tension was gone. It was replaced by irritation, because he'd just had smoke blown in his face, but he waved his hand at the cloud and it dissipated quickly enough. Things had been getting too heavy again, and he was glad that Jude had been able to misdirect those feelings, though he wished his friend would do it in a way that was less likely to cause one or both of them cancer.

He picked up his cocoa again, lifted the peppermint stick out and licked it while Jude talked. Peppermint was one of his favorite flavors, especially when combined with white hot chocolate. Really, cocoa form was the only way he liked chocolate, and he figured that was because it didn't really taste like chocolate.

Dropping the peppermint stick back into his cocoa, he snorted. "Don't worry, Jude. Your secret is safe with me."

He should have said secrets. Jude had revealed things to him, whether he wanted to or not, that Grayson would take to his grave. Again. "And you aren't a jerk."

What?

"Not really. You can be a jerk, but so can I." He lifted his shoulder, having already forgiven Jude for what he had been so angry about before. He'd provoked him, he knew, when he shouldn't have. He'd lost his temper and Jude had merely reacted. In the end, that argument could have been prevented if only he'd handled himself better.

He grinned then, and though it was a shadow of his former one, at least it was a grin. "I can't quite see you with bat ears, though."

Grayson hadn't even noticed Dani past his initial wave to her. He felt guilty, and he blinked, looking over to where she was standing. She was doing stretches, her pigtails trailing ridiculously as she went from one direction to the next. It was cute, in the way that a little girl would be cute, and he grinned.

She straightened, gave them a critical eye, and shouted back, "Are you done fighting now?"

There was an awkward pause where Grayson slowly turned to look at Jude. His brows were up, and there might have been a little bit of mischief in his eyes, for just a moment. But, he wasn't really the type to tease.

"Are we done fighting, Jude?" Important as the idea of ordering a completely ridiculous pizza and making Barny's life temporarily miserable was, he thought the question was an important one.

Besides, while he waited for the answer, he tried to decide if it would be funny to say the pineapples and pepperonis had to be evenly spaced or if that would be overkill.

Everything was going fine until Jude touched his shoulder and leaned over, whispered. His breath slid across Grayson's ear, had several wires short circuiting in his brain all at once. Suddenly, the newly relaxed atmosphere was charged, his pulse scattered, and his stomach did a back flip.

Damn his body.

He was stunned enough by the brief contact that the words merely added icing to the cake, leaving him sitting there wide-eyed and still. It wasn't the dangerous sort of still that he'd exhibited with temper; this was the panicked still of a deer that had just gambled everything and leapt into a pair of headlights. Even after Jude stood and started walking away, it took him a moment to shake the feeling, regain control of his limbs and stand.

Dani was waving, shouting, "I have things to do, but have fun!" and then she was off, leaving Grayson standing in front of the park bench, confused and jittery from something as simple as a touch and a whisper.

Damn Jude anyway, always whispering at him like that.

He spun on his heel, bringing his scarf up higher over his face to cover his wind-chilled cheeks (yes, that was why they were red) as he jogged to catch up. From the sound of things, he and Jude were going to... go watch a movie. At his apartment?

Dani wasn't coming, so it was going to be him and Jude, and they were going to prank call Barnaby, but it would still just be him and Jude.

Oh, if there was a God above, let him have mercy. Grayson didn't know exactly how he was going to survive this encounter with his dignity intact.

Not if Jude kept acting the way he was.